For the Love of Mercy
by the Unrequited Lover
Summary: Tom Riddle, memory, tells Draco, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny about a girl he knew and loved when he opened the Chamber. ..and what happened to her when he became Voldemort. Rating may change- it's dark!
1. Slytherin's Colours

Disclaimer: As everyone knows, the characters and settings that take place in this story belong to the amzing Leo Jo Rowling. sigh I wish Tom Riddle was mine, but he's not.

a/n: I fully intend on writing a second chapter at some point in time. I'm not sure exactly what it should be like, yet, if you have any deas review and tell me!

It was Saturday morning. Usually he got up early- he always had things to do. But for some reason he slept in.

He didn't know what had made him so tired. He just knew that he had crept into bed, late but earlier than usual, and fallen asleep. The next thing he knew, there was a hand over his face, his mouth. He was being strangled.

He woke up with a gasp.

"Ssh," said a soft voice, soothingly, a cool hand against the side of his face.

"Wha-?" he began, looking up frightfully. His expression quickly changed when he saw her face.

"Mercy! You scared me!" He said mockingly, a hand over his chest. The girl grinned shyly at him. She was sitting beside him on the bed. His bed. He wondered if she'd even given it a thought.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her eyes betraying her inner thoughts; she wasn't sorry at all. "I came up to wake you, but you know....I couldn't bring myself to do it. You look so different when you're sleeping."

He raised an eyebrow, sitting up slightly. Her hand still laid on his skin, on his neck, his cheek.

"You look so innocent...." She sighed, looking down at the floor and nothing in particular. "I was just going to sit and wait for you to open your eyes and say something...rather sarcastic, but you didn't, so I just stayed. And then you started to look like you were having nightmares, so I..." she trailed away and absent-mindedly stroked the side of his face.

He watched her face, but she didn't try to look into his eyes, like most people did, like the stereotypical girl did. She looked at what he seemed to be, purposefully, knowing that it wasn't him, but trying to analyse it anyway. That always threw him off. She just gazed at him, pensive and quiet.

That was Mercy for you.

"Were you dreaming?" she asked him.

A faint line of annoyance appeared between his eyebrows.

"Of you? Most certainly not."

Mercy cocked her head very quickly. "Of anything."

"Not that I know of," he said, wondering if she even cared who he was.

She just nodded, and her hand slipped from his neck and she got up to leave. Still propped up, he watched her walk with faint interest. She had never spoken to him about anything not school-related before. She was a slender girl, like a swan, very leggy with an elegant white neck and smooth skin that was as white as cream. She turned when she reached the doorway.

"You be careful in your sleep. Things are not always as they seem, Tom Riddle."

Then she left, and he was left to sit on the bed and ponder her mystery.

"G'morning, Tom," called Robert jovially. Robert was his ally, and the closest thing he had ever had to a friend. Robert understood Tom, and although they were both after very different things, they knew that they could both be achieved the same way.

"Same to you," Tom said, and sat beside him on the couch. "You won't believe who woke me up this morning," he said, confidentially lowering his voice.

"Reckon I won't," Robby said with a shrug, reading the daily prophet. "Don't know what took you, anyway- lunch is in an hour."

"I don't know, either- it was Vice."

Robby looked up, initially surprised, then his shocked appearance turned into a sly grin. "You've got her, Tom."

Tom sneered. Then smiled rather nastily. "Why not?"

"Why indeed."

"It could be fun."

"Very fun." Robby looked up again, still smiling. "Women are very easy, Tom, especially for us."

Tom nodded. "I'd have to agree with you."

It was easy for them. Tom had a reputation, and even that couldn't stop him. His charm was unequaled, his looks unparalleled, and if he- or Robert- wanted a girl, it took no time at all to get her. Mercy Vice would be no exception. It would be so easy, he suspected, and even if she cursed his name afterwards for being used, he didn't think it would matter- if he ever wanted her again, she'd come at the sound of her name. Women were like that. He knew exactly what they thought even if they didn't know it; women adored being used up until you decided to stop using them. That was when they became angry or hurt.

"You prick!" Ginny shouted. "Women don't like being used at all! They get mad when they find out they were being used!"

The memory looked rather ruffled as he turned to Ginny. "Oh, do shut up, you silly girl. You loved me the entire year, now be quiet- you're just mad that I got bored."

"Don't talk to my sister like that!" yelled Ron.

"Will you all just shut up and let me tell the story?" retorted Tom, very angry at that time.

"And that's another thing," interrupted Harry from the floor of the dusty room. "Would you stop referring to yourself in the third person? It's really annoying."

Ron nodded and made to speak when Hermione turned on him and huffed impatiently, "Oh, do shut up, all of you! I, for one, would like to hear this!"

She turned back to the memory and sad politely, "Please continue."

Never one to stay silent, Ron muttered to Harry loudly, "Oh, great, now Hermione fancies Riddle."

Harry tried to stifle his laughter, although Ron didn't, and Draco snickered.

Ginny smiled as though she'd laughed, but Hermione looked at her furiously and Ginny stopped. Tom sighed with irritation, and said, "Do you mind?"

Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, fine, sure, whatever, go on," she snapped.

Tom glared menacingly and went on.

"Hey, Robby," Tom whispered. "You ready?"

Robert nodded. It was always like this; Tom went out to talk to the girls, then later on asked if he could invite a friend, and then Robert went out to talk to them, too. Somehow the combined efforts of the pair drove the girls absolutely mad. The boys had their way with them and the girls spread vicious rumors that never stopped them from getting the next batch of girls.

Tom smiled cruelly. "Then I guess I'll be seeing you."

And he set off to speak to the girls.

"You are so disgusting," said Ginny angrily, and Draco, Harry, Ron and Tom all moaned.

"Let it go, Ginevra," Tom said softly, voice full of scorn. "Move on."

"It is rather rude, you know," Hermione added sensibly as though informing him of the incantation for a particularly easy spell. "Talking about girls like that after what you've done. I'm actually surprised she's taking it so well."

"You're defending her?" said Tom, blinking. "Well, that's news to me. And here I thought you liked me."

"About as much as I like Wormtail- no, I think I prefer you to him," Hermione amended. "All right, about as much as I like Draco."

Harry and Ron laughed quietly and Draco looked highly affronted.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

"Hey, ladies," he said as he gracefully walked over to him, the autumn wind running through his silky black hair. The group of girls looked up from what they were doing and giggled.

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked, going to stand beside them, leaning against a tree.

"We're trying to call over the giant squid," answered one of them truthfully, a fourth year Hufflepuff named Latrice.

Tom laughed. "Are you, then? What's your plan to do it?"

Latrice shrugged, her face reddening. She wasn't all that bad looking, but Tom was after a prize- Robert could have any other girl, Tom only wanted one.

"Well, would you like my advice?" he asked the group of girls. He looked around for that one girl. The others all giggled.

"I'd love it," said a soft voice briskly from behind Amelia, a fifth year Ravenclaw. Out from behind her stepped an ashy blonde with cool brown doe's eyes. She was dressed in Slytherin's colors, and Tom licked his lips.

It was Mercy Vice.

Tom kept talking, his eyes lingering for a moment on her chest, and her white neck, then looking at the other girls.

"I think you should find something to use as bait," Tom continued slyly. "Something to attract it."

"What would attract it?" asked another Hufflepuff, a fifth year named Farrah.

Tom shrugged. "Something attractive?"

The girls giggled. All but Mercy, the lone Slytherin.

"Yes, I think that's a very good idea," he resumed speaking, walking closer to them.

He stopped in front of a Gryffindor fourth year, Stella. "We could just toss you in," he said to her in a pretend scientific manner. She blushed furiously and stammered, "B-but my clothes'd get wet, and heavy. I'd sink."

Tom winked. "You could just take them off."

The girls giggled loudly again, all but Mercy, who stepped forward. He looked at her, her brown eyes and long lashes rimming them, surprisingly dark, seeing as her hair was so very pale, like straw in the frost.

"Bait, you say?" she asked softly. He stepped closer to her and whispered, "Yes. Something to lure the squid over here."

"Something irresistible." She added, her hands snaking up to rest on his shoulders. The other girls sighed in awe behind her.

"The most delectable person in Hogwarts," he continued.

"I don't have a doubt about who it is," cooed Mercy.

"Neither do I," Tom said slowly, leaning closer.

"Then it's settled?" she asked him mysteriously.

"Of course," Tom replied with a smile and moved in to kiss her.

Unfortunately, when he leaned in to kiss her, she pulled on his left shoulder hard and pushed on his right one, sending him flying into the lake. One of the girls screamed, a few others laughed, but Mercy laughed hardest of all- and cruelest.

Tom propelled himself to the surface, spitting out water.

"Mercy, I- what was that for?" he asked. Mercy kneeled beside the lake, on her knees, and leaned forward, reaching out her left hand to stroke his hair and his neck again, like she had that morning.

"Well, Tom," she purred, the girls gathering around her, "the squid's not coming. I guess you were wrong. You're not the most delectable person at Hogwarts."

And they all laughed, to add insult to injury, and Mercy sat up on and said clearly, "You see, girls, Tom wasn't really here to help us with our quest to find the squid. He just wanted a little sugar, that's all."

The girls whispered anxiously amongst themselves.

"But if you still want that kiss, Tom," Mercy said, directing her attention back to him as he rested his arms on the shore, "I'd be _ecstatic_ to oblige now."

And she leaned in to kiss him, that pale hand entangled in his wet, black hair, and even though it was September and therefore freezing in the lake, he felt so warm, and he couldn't believe he had though her hands were icy that morning, not those hands on his neck, those fingers in his hair. Never. But before he could think, before he could drag himself onshore to lie beside her and show her the pleasure he was feeling, she broke away, broke away and looked into his eyes with a sort of startled look, and he knew he had been right. Does' eyes.

She looked into his eyes, and saw that somewhere in the oceans of deep blue there was a kind of hunger, and she backed away, the slight fear vanishing to be replaced by a very smug smile.

Mercy stood up, and for a split second Tom hated her for that feeling of need she had searched for within him, found, and drawn from him like blood, exposing his throbbing heart to the world. Hated her.

Then the moment passed and he was merely angry for being humiliated. He pulled himself up out of the water, muttering darkly.

The girls walked away, but he didn't notice that one stayed behind to watch him struggle.

"Who's idea was it to look for the bloody squid, anyway?" he said out loud, crossly.

"Mine," said the girl, then turned around and walked away. Tom watched her leave. She was wearing Slytherin's colors.

_I really like this one. It's only the second fan fiction I've ever written. The first one was a DM/HG fic, and it's not actually done, because I just started it a few days ago, but I prefer that Pansy get together with Draco, anyway. Otherwise it's just sort of weird. _

_I also like Tom Riddle better than any characters, but I think it'd be funny to have him meet them. Don't you?_


	2. Rejection

"'She was wearing Slytherin's colors?'" quoted Ginny, blinking. "Gee, I wonder who it was."

Riddle rolled his eyes. "I don't like you. You don't like me. Can't we just leave it at that?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "If you think that I could possibly forgive you after what you did, then you're very sadly mistaken."

Draco cracked his knuckles loudly. "Shut up, Weasel Princess. If you don't mind, I'd like to hear the rest of the story. I'm actually enjoying it, believe it or not."

"That's because you're just as detestable, and that's the truth."

"No, Ms. Weasely, it isn't."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, it is!"

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but you're wrong."

"You know I'm right, Malfoy!"

"Okay, you two, break it up," interjected Harry. "I accept that you may not agree with one another, but can't we just hear this uninterrupted? Please?!"

Ron glanced at Harry sideways. "You want to hear this?"

"Yeah. Sure, why not?"

Ron looked faint. "Why not? Harry, this is Voldemort."

"I think I know that, Ron."

"And Voldemort wants you dead."

"Oh, no, Ron, he doesn't really," said Hermione sarcastically. "He just doesn't know what Avada Kedavra really does to people." She cackled with a mad laugh that could've rivaled Bellatrix'. "Honestly, Ron, where'd you figure that one out?"

Ron reddened. Draco cleared his throat loudly. "Points to the mudbl- ah, I mean Ms. Granger, for ousting out Weasely. Now, if we could just take care of the other one-"

Ginny staged a loud cough, and said shortly, her temper flaring, "If you're referring to me, Malfoy, then at least say my name."

Draco opened his mouth crossly to speak but Tom cut him off. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you people?" He asked. "Do you or don't you want to hear what I have to say? Do you even care?"

Ginny hid a smirk behind her hand, and said, "Ha! Not so easy, is it, Riddle, to have people not really listen to your thoughts and feelings?"

Tom shut his eyes in indignation.

"Let's conduct a poll," said Draco, scrambling to get everyone's attention. "Who wants to stay and hear the end of this? Raise your hand and I'll count."

"You can count?" said Ron loudly, in mock astonishment.

"Okay, raise your hands," Draco said even louder, his ears getting pink.

Harry raised his hand, still grinning; Ron raised his hand grudgingly; Hermione put her whole arm up, as usual; and Ginny raised her hand, wavering a bit, as though she was going to put it down.

Tom noticed it. "Oh, Ginny dear, you'd like to hear my tale?" he asked in a sort of false baby voice. "Even though you remember the last time I poured a bit of my soul into you?"

Ginny's fragile temper swayed and then snapped. Color rising to her cheeks, she shouted, "Shut your damn mouth, Riddle! I'm not listening to any of your taunts!"

Tom grinned nastily and said, "That's not what it looks like."

Hermione looked from Tom to Ginny and back to Tom again. "Please, won't you go on?" she pleaded hurriedly, hoping Ginny'd calm down if he left her alone.

Ginny wasn't done. "You're a menace! God, I can't wait for you to die! Harry, you'd better really get him, because I-"

"Don't bring me into this!" Harry said warningly.

"I can't stand it if he bests us!" She glared at him again, her frown more pronounced. "You're really repulsive."

Hermione was a bit more anxious to move on. "Please, Tom? Just finish?"

Riddle looked her over with vague curiosity, then smiled. "Oh, but Ms. Granger isn't repulsed by me, is she? Are you, Hermione?" he asked her, then winked.

She blushed scarlet.

Ron moaned. "Oh, what a splendid idea," he said loudly, "why don't we all get out of here so Hermione can have some alone time with dear Tom."

Hermione hit him over the head sharply with a book and looked back up at Riddle, who surprisingly enough, sat down on the carpet in front of her and Ginny, his steady gaze closer to their level.

"I think I'll continue, if you don't mind," he said lazily, and went on.

Robert had seen Tom in the lake, and he rushed over to him.

"What was that all about?" he asked, confused.

Tom sat on the shore, his lips blue with cold, and spat, "Rejection."

Robby's eyes widened. "No way," he said, shaking his head. "I don't believe it."

"You'd better," Tom said darkly. "It was going fine until Mercy came up."

"But the others were normal?"

"Yeah," Tom said sullenly. "They were fine."

Robert nodded sympathetically, and dried him off with a spell that they weren't supposed to know until their next year, when they did N.E.W.T.s.

"Still want her?" Robby asked.

Tom looked up. He hadn't been paying attention, he had been lost in his thoughts, thinking considerably pleasurable thoughts, if not somewhat erotic ones, about what he'd like to do with- or, perhaps, to- Mercy Vice. The way she had kissed him was sheer heaven, or rather, hell. He'd gotten so many dirty thoughts that no angel'd look at him twice. And yet Mercy had looked at him. She was an angel in a veela's wrapper. No; she didn't flirt or anything. She was an angel. A virginal angel, a fallen angel. An angel he wanted to push down onto his bed hotly and run his hands through her hair and pull the garters off of, and listen to her weep for him, _oh, Tom, oh, Tom, oh please..._ oh, yes, he wanted her. Still wanted her.

"Mercy?" He asked, for clarification. Robby nodded. Tom thought about his situation. He had wanted her. If she had given in, what would he have done? Enchant her, kiss her, and then refuse her, thus leaving her hooked on him for all time. But instead- he smiled grimly- she had enchanted _him_, kissed _him_, and then refused _him_.

He was hooked on her for all time. Ah, well, he always got what he wanted.

"Of course I still want her," he said amiably. "I'm just going to have to be more direct."

Robby snorted. "You mean, touch first, talk later?"

Tom nodded, and the pair headed back to the dormitories.

"You're really going to go through a lot of trouble just to snog Mercy."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I thought you knew me better. Who said anything about snogging? I can handle much heavier things, and the night is still young."

Robby grinned, and they continued down the halls to the dungeons.

Ginny had a false coughing fit.

I had so much fun with this chapter! Isn't Tom foul? Anyway, I'm running out of ideas, so please, help would definitely be appreciated!


	3. Apologies, well, sort of

A/n: to PrettyTeenWitch, I was so glad you reviewed! I really liked your stories, so that made the experience especially flattering. This is my favorite story, anyway, although most people like my other one.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, naturally- if I did, his tale would be cleverly woven into that brilliant tapestry that we know of as the Harry Potter series. I am not JK Rowling, that remarkable woman, nor am I making any money. I am only an avid fangirl who wishes she owned Tom Riddle.

Tom threw his hands up in the air and shouted, completely exasperated, "I give up! There is no getting through to you, Ginny Weasely! I am completely out of my element here!"

Ginny folded her arms, determined to not speak. Ron, Harry and Draco looked fairly disappointed, but they knew that if they started talking, it would never continue.

The group sat in silence for a while.

"Well...did you ever sleep with her?" asked Draco finally, to make conversation.

Tom grinned, not really being able to help himself. "Sleep with her?" he said faintly. "I took her virginity! As a matter of fact, I think I'm the only man to have ever had her."

"But you're not a virgin?" asked Draco.

"Are you?" retorted Tom.

"Well, no," admitted Draco.

"You're not?" asked Harry, astounded.

"You're not?" asked Ron, sounding impressed.

Harry noticed and he starting laughing. Ron looked embarrassed, but he laughed, too; and Draco laughed as well.

"So," Harry asked finally, "what was she like? Mercy?"

Tom moved so that he was lying on his side, propped up on his elbow beside Hermione, and asked, "You mean in bed? A bit naïve, but that's to be expected, and she wears the most intoxicating perfume, and-"

"No, no, no, no, no," interrupted Harry hastily, "What's she like?"

Harry distinctly noticed Tom and Draco share a sort of sly grin before Tom answered.

"She's got about a thousand multiple personalities. Well, I told you, didn't I- that morning she was all concerned and vulnerable- ah, damn, I should've taken advantage of that-"

Ginny coughed delicately. Tom cast her a dirty look.

"And then she was all seductive and cunning by the lake, but of course she's not always like either of those- becomes a different person entirely when you're stripping off her nightclothes, whispering promises into her ear, you see," he snickered. Ginny clenched her fists.

"Hey, Ginny," complained Draco, "what is with you and him, anyway? Anybody'd think-"he cut off suddenly, and a wicked leer spread across his features.

"Anybody'd think something went on between you two at some point?" he asked, curiously.

Ginny looked at him, angry and startled.

"I guess not," Draco ended lamely, the grin not quite gone from his features.

Tom sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. "Why don't you all join my down here?" he asked, looking up at the five of them. Ginny huffed, and he laughed.

"Well, that doesn't surprise me," he choked, "but surely you don't all share the view?"

He sobered and looked up at them, one by one, his gaze finally settling on Hermione.

"Hermione," he coaxed. "You'll come down, won't you?" He hit her knee playfully.

"Right?"

Hermione subconsciously slid down onto the floor, lying in front of Tom on her stomach, head in hands. Ron snorted.

Ginny shrugged and followed Hermione's example.

Soon they were all like Hermione, acting like they were at camp.

Tom smirked.

"You didn't finish telling us about Mercy," mentioned Harry casually from the other side of Ginny.

Tom rolled his eyes but went on. "Okay, well, whenever I think of her, I always remember her eyes, big and brown, doe's eyes." He smiled and took Hermione's hands in his own.

"Kind of like yours," he said softly.

She blushed furiously, looking away, then looked back at him and said, "You're so lucky we're not beside a lake or I'd throw you in."

Tom looked like a kicked kitten, then he licked his lips shamelessly.

"And then what?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Would you kiss me?"

Hermione blinked, then thought of something to say. She opened her mouth- but Riddle quickly covered it with his own in a heated kiss.

Draco's eyes went wide, Harry's jaw dropped, and Ron snorted again, and started muttering. Surprisingly, Ginny just started laughing.

Alarmed, Hermione pushed him away. "You don't need to do that," she stammered quickly. "I'm a muggleborn, you know."

"You're also the first girl I've been able to touch for about four years," said Riddle with a laugh. He poked her nose and said, "You're very fun to kiss."

Hermione glared at him- although you could see that she was quite flattered.

At least, Tom could see it, because he leaned in and kissed her again, more gently this time, and more slowly. He leisurely parted her lips and began kissing her more strongly. He got up onto his knees, pulling her with him, although their lips separated for a time. Then his mouth found hers voraciously and sought out her tongue again. When he let go of her wrists, her hands fell upon his shoulders a bit shakily, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. Then his hands went up the back of her shirt...

Hermione gasped and shoved him away. That sort of thing normally surprised him, but he had almost expected it from her.

Because her eyes looked exactly like Mercy's.

She stared at him in awe, breathing deeply. Then she slowly lowered herself to the floor, and said in a small voice: "Did you see Mercy later that night?"

Tom lay on his side again, daring Hermione and Ginny with his eyes to look down the length of his body. Then he cleared his throat.

Tom was brooding. He could have easily done that in the common room, but all the others were down there, so he was sitting on his bed, even if it was only ten o'clock at night.

He heard someone seize the curtain around his bed and pull on it gently. He looked up at it, frowning, and the curtain slid out of place to reveal Mercy.

She was fairly out of place herself.

"You're not supposed to be up here," Tom said. Then he sneezed. Her pensive expression gave way to reveal one of concern. She reached out her hand to touch his face.

He flinched.

"Oh, Tom," she breathed, her hand still reaching towards him, but no longer attempting to make contact with his flesh.

"I'm- I'm sorry," she said quietly, so that he had to strain to hear her.

"Did you come up here for that, or to have a conversation?" he asked crossly. "If you want to talk, then say so."

She gazed up at him through her eyelashes, with a shy smile. Tom's mind was forced back to that morning, when she'd shown such trepidation over him for no reason that it had touched him. He mentally slapped himself. Girls were for physical pleasure. Not for relieving psychological pain.

"I'd like to speak with you," she told him. He sat up in bed- luckily he hadn't changed out of his clothes- and motioned to her.

"Come sit by me, then," he said finally.

She looked uncertain.

"What do you think I'll do?" he asked with a laugh. "Rape you?"

She shook her head. "My shoes," she told him. "Why don't I sit out here?"

"Privacy is an issue, Mercy." Mercy. What a name. He planned to show no mercy to his followers or his enemies, and here he was with a girl named Mercy.

Odd.

She sat on his bed across from him and he drew the curtains shut.

"It's a bit dark," she whispered.

Tom sighed. _"Lumos_", he said, and there was a light. He set his wand into a hole in one of the bedposts and lay down on his back, propped up on his elbows.

"You don't have to whisper, Mercy,' he informed her coldly. "No one can hear us."

"Okay," she said.

"You said you wanted to talk," Tom began, "so what did you want to talk about?"

"At the lake," Mercy started, "you were flirting with the girls."

"Is that a fact?" said Tom sarcastically.

"Why?" she asked.

Tom laughed, then gestured for her to come closer, which she did, sitting beside him.

"Because, Mercy," he said dangerously, "I was, frankly, bored. Why else would I go talk to a bunch of silly little girls? You were right. I wanted something."

She looked away from him, which, for some reason, annoyed him. He was Tom Riddle, for heaven's sake- she shouldn't break eye contact with him!

"Now it's my turn," he said forcefully. "Why did you...come wake me up this morning?"

Mercy smirked, a malevolent glint in her eye. "Because, Tom, you slept in." She laughed scornfully. "Why else would I waste my time?"

He recoiled as though he had been slapped. He'd forgotten about how quickly her attitude could change.

"Do you like kissing me?" he asked.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me."

"Yes, I did, and no, Tom, I don't."

"If I kissed you again, would you like it?"

There was only silence.

"No." She replied.

He sighed and shut his eyes. He felt her weight move- she was leaning over him. His inner voice- that sounded something like Robby- was shouting encouragement, but he was curious to see what she did.

And she leaned down and, so tenderly that he was startled, kissed his eyelids, one at a time.

"Good night, Tom Riddle. May you recover your soul on that journey through your mind."

The weight lifted; she was leaving.

"Wait," he called. She turned. He had opened his eyes and he saw her- Mercy Vice, sitting on his bed- his own bed- her feet dangling over the side, looking back at him.

"Stay with me tonight."

"Tom, you know I can't, and I don't like you."

"Then why did you come up here?"

"I hoped that if I apologized, you'd apologize, too."

Once again, it was like being slapped. She'd gotten him.

"Oh." He said stupidly. She turned to leave, but he seized her arm and pulled her back in.

She gasped.

"I want you to stay," he repeated.

"Get some other girl!" she snapped.

"I don't want to!" he yelled back.

"You were going to mess with all those other girls at the lake!" she cried, fumbling, pulling at his hand. His grip was powerful.

"No, I wasn't!" he shouted. "I only went there for you-"

She stopped and stared at him, open-mouthed. He let go of her arm, mortified. She sat on the edge of his bed, her eyes wide.

He reached out his hand to touch her face. She slapped it away, suddenly angry, and stood.

"I'm leaving," she said, her voice shaking. She turned and ran down the staircase.

"Fine!" he shouted after her. "See if I care!"

And he stormed back into his room and tried to sleep. He didn't sleep until midnight, when everyone else had gone to bed and fallen prey to dreams.

"Tom," came a voice. He frowned in his sleep. Where was that coming from?

"Tom," the vice repeated, more urgently. His eyes snapped open.

It was Mercy. She was in a long black nightgown, and she was lying on her side next to him.

"You," he said, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes," she murmured. "I came to see you."

"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Two am," she replied.

"Oh."

"Tom, I-"

"Don't speak!" he warned her. She fell silent. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say." He brought her towards him in a kiss.... she pulled back.

"I didn't come for that. I came to ask you something."

"Ask it, then."

"Will you help me study tomorrow?"

He nearly fell out of his bed.

"I didn't expect you to say that!"

She smiled sweetly. "Well, what were you expecting?"

"I don't know. Anything but that."

"Will you?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Thanks."

"For a price."

"Oh." She halted. He bit his lip, then said, "Stay here tonight."

"I'm not sleeping with-"

"I'm not going to rape you."

She shrugged, and crept under the covers with him. His heart jumped, and she let out a small sigh. He inched closer to her, placing his arms around her waist, and allowed himself to fall asleep."

"You didn't make love to her?" yelped Draco.

"No," Tom replied.

Hermione looked over at him. "Wait...this is autumn, right?"

"September, yes."

"In your sixth year?"

"That's correct."

"When did you open the Chamber of Secrets?"

Tom grinned evilly. "I'm coming to that. Who knows, maybe I'll get a little help from Mercy-"

Ginny chucked a lethal-looking Dark Detector at his head.

Ah, my loyal followers don't fret. There shall be equal parts romance and chamber throughout this story. And no, I have no intention of filling this with sex and stuff. Note the rating! Yes, the Chamber shall come to play very soon...as will the diary, never you worry.


	4. Can I tell you a secret?

_Disclaimer: I am not the owner of Harry Potter. But I don't care. That's not what makes me sad. I'm sad, you see, because I'm not the owner of Tom Riddle....now that, ladies and gentlemen, is depressing._

_A/n: thanks to all those that reviewed...you guys keep my spirits (and postings) up. So here's a thank-you..._

_Wickedharrypotterfam: here it is! Yay! I'm so glad!_

_SlytherinRulesDracoIsMyGu: missing the Y there? Oh well. Nice to see some of my BTT fans are reading my decent stuff._

_Leafs-gurl999: I'm very much in love with riddle. I hope its funny....I've got a shocker in mind._

"You, Tom Riddle, are a bastard, and I do not like you," said Ginny flatly.

"Let me finish the story, Ginevra!"

"Finish it decently, Tom Marvolo!"

"Okay, fine," he snapped, and went on."

"I want you to stay," he repeated.

"Get some other girl!" she snapped.

"I don't want to!" he yelled back.

"Hey, you already told us this," complained Ginny.

"Yeah, well, listen anyway," Tom snapped, and she fell silent.

"You were going to mess with all those other girls at the lake!" she cried, fumbling, pulling at his hand. His grip was powerful.

"No, I wasn't!" he shouted. "I only went there for you-"

She stopped and stared at him, open-mouthed. He let go of her arm, mortified. She sat on the edge of his bed, her eyes wide.

He reached out his hand to touch her face. She slapped it away, suddenly angry, and stood.

"I'm leaving," she said, her voice shaking. She turned and ran down the staircase.

"Fine!" he shouted after her. "See if I care!"

And he stormed back into his room and tried to sleep. He didn't sleep until midnight, when everyone else had gone to bed and fallen prey to dreams.

"Tom," came a voice. He didn't open his eyes. He was tired, after all.

"Tom, wake up, you useless bastard."

"I am awake. I just have my eyes closed."

"I'm sorry about earlier." Mercy said, and he felt her hand brush away some stray hairs on his forehead.

"Yeah, I know. What time is it?"

"Two am." Mercy replied, and he felt her fingertips on his cheek, his chin, his neck....the opening of his shirt.

"Two...? But- that's what you said earlier!" His eyes snapped open. Her nightgown- it was white. Not black. What the-?

Her eyes were brimming full of concern.

"Tom- I never said anything about the time."

"Yes, you did- when you came and asked me if I'd help you study tomorrow-"

She looked positively fearful now, and her cool hand swept across his brow. "Are you ill?"

"What?" He sat up. He was still in his school clothes. He knew he had never taken them off.

Mercy was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"You must have been dreaming, Tom." She laughed lightly. Her laughter sounded like silver bells.

"Now I know that you do dream." She said.

He slid to the edge of his bed, sitting beside her, head in his hands.

"It was so strange. And you were in a black nightgown, too."

She looked at him strangely. "Black, did you say?"

"Yeah."

"What sort of nightgown? Did it have lace on the neck?"

"A ribbon, yes, also black." He looked up at her. She looked ill.

"What's wrong?"

"oh, nothing..." she insisted. But she looked very faint. "Do you mind if I lie down here for a bit? I'm feeling...."

"Oh, no, please do." He said quietly. She lied down on his bed, looking very shaken.

"Please, what else?" she asked. So he told her the dream. She looked confused and startled when he was done with it.

"Care to share any musings?"

"Not really."

He sighed, and said, "I didn't think you would."

She sat up. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Oh, no, that's okay."

"No, it really isn't. I was terrible." She was staring at him intently, pain in her eyes. She really was sorry.

"I'm going for a walk. You know, clear my thoughts. Would you like to come?"

Mercy looked surprised, and- could it be? Flattered?

"I'd love to, but you see, you're better prepared to go walking than I am." She whispered.

"Stop whispering, silly; no one's listening in."

"Walls have ears, Tom- and eyes, sometimes."

He would have laughed of she hadn't looked so grave.

"Go change, then- I'll wait."

"Why do you want to go with me?"

He laughed quietly. "Go change," he repeated, and she held up her wand and whispered something.

Suddenly a few of her things came flying in. She caught them; a shirt, a pair of pants, and shoes. She was obviously wearing socks and undergarments already.

"Mercy, I-"

"Turn around, Tom."

"Mercy-"

"Don't watch me undress."

He shook his head and turned around. A few times he was tempted, but he never looked. Finally, she tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned; she was in a pair of worn in jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. His eyes lingered a little too long on her chest, and he shook his head and glanced at her face, studying the way shadows fell across it. She looked so tired, and so vulnerable.

"Let's go," she whispered.

"Won't you get cold?" he asked her as they descended the stairs.

"Don't be silly," she said with a soft laugh. They dashed out of the common room and crept into the hallway- they would be walking outside.

They sneaked out into the moonlight. Tom admired the way the moonlight fell across her face, and lit up her hair. She turned to look at him shyly, moonlight filtering through her long eyelashes.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had walked over to her and looked into her eyes, oh gods, she was the loveliest thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon, and he had seen many lovely things. Beautiful for the gifts they gave him freely, the gifts they presented him with although he had not earned them, yes, that was the beauty of women. Beautiful in their sin, their wretched lives, and the pleasures they gave him as they sent his soul to hell.

But not Mercy. She was exquisite, magnificent, quite lovely in her innocence. Ah, yes, she was innocent. But he wasn't. He looked away as guilt seared his thoughts. And when he touched her- he tainted her. What would he do to her soul?

He looked back at her, expecting to see the angel she was, but instead he saw her differently- her eyes stared at him mournfully, in torment, her face so thin and sickly, her skin so pale. She had a gash on her cheek that had been....sewn up with thread, and she had scratches all over her face. Her neck had been severed- there was thread sewing that on to her shoulders, and blood trickled down. Her hair was black and filthy- she opened her mouth to curse him, damn him- he shut his eyes and waited for it-

"Tom!" she cried, and he looked back up at her. No scars, no blood, no thread. She no longer looked like a perverse marionette doll. Her blond hair hung down around her face, floating there- and her eyes were still filled with that melancholy sweetness, that innocence.

"Oh, Mercy," he whispered, his eyes still wide and fearful. There were tears in her eyes.

And then she was completely herself- well, as much herself as she ever was.

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"I saw you-"he choked, and he suddenly felt as though his knees would break. He seized her arm suddenly.

"Tom," she murmured. She sat on the ground, and he sat beside her.

"You were- hideous," he gasped, and shut his eyes against the image. "You looked like a doll- a human doll-"

"Sshh," she whispered, "it will be all right." She kissed his eyelids again.

"No," he said, "don't do that, I need not your pity." He stood and began walking away, and she followed.

"Tom, about this afternoon," she started.

"What?"

"You're a bastard."

He spun around, shocked. "You said you were sorry."

"I know. But you're still a bastard." Her face was cold as stone. There was no mercy in those eyes. And those eyes did not belong to Mercy.

Terrible pun...but she's had a mood change again.

He sighed and they continued walking, al the way up to the tree they'd been at earlier.

"Brings back memories, ah?" he joked.

"Yeah...I've seen you sit under here writing in a diary," she commented.

He froze.

"Never would've guessed you, of all people, owned one. You're not using it as an outlet for Dark Magic, are you?"

She looked at him, amused, but all humour vanished when she saw his face.

"Are you, Tom?"

He couldn't answer.

"Tom, what are you going to do?"

"What makes you think I'd do anything?" he sputtered.

She didn't reply, she just sunk to her knees and looking out at the lake wistfully. He sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him, and he leaned down to kiss her.

"Stop," she whispered.

"I'd very much enjoy it," he said hotly in her ear.

She pulled away from him, her gaze cold.

"You, of all people, do not deserve enjoyment."

He kissed her eyelids shut and held her closely. "You deserve it."

She pulled away again, more harshly, and stared into his eyes mercilessly. She would dissect him then and there and leave him bleeding, and not care. Her mood had changed again.

"I'll be damned if I ever let you pleasure me, Tom."

That stung. He just looked at her, then grinned, and began groping her again.

"Let me assure you, I can show you heaven," he said, but she shoved him away.

"Your words are the sweetest poison, Riddle, but I am no fool. I am not Eve; I will not let the serpent seduce me."

He smiled at her silly little metaphor, as it would make things so much easier for him.

"Then you do not wish to taste the fruit of knowledge?"

He regretted it when he looked at her, though. Her eyes held a glassy and haunted appearance.

"I don't know what I want," she whispered restlessly.

"You're a Slytherin. What do you want more than anything in the world?"

"I want to retain my innocence, Tom."

He laughed.

But she was serious.

Very serious.

"What do you want?"

A silence.

Then, "I want power, Mercy. I want the power that should have been Slytherin's."

She looked at him closely. "Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" she asked.

His heart skipped a beat, and he felt as though she had read his mind. Maybe she was a Legilimens.

He chose his words carefully when he eventually spoke:

"Can I tell you a secret?"

_ Muahahahaha!! cliffhanger of the worst sort! sorry...I tried to get it out of the melodrama area. And forgive my morbid fascination with marionette dolls._


	5. Astronomy Tower

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, and will never be mine, unless JK Rowling visits this site and stumbles across my humble abode, takes a liking to me, and leaves Harry to me in her will when she dies. But I don't want that to happen! JK Rowling must never die! She must live on! _

_Thanks to:_

_Monikka: you're like, my Internet best friend, and I've known you for approximately two or three days. Weird. Anyway, I made a spelling error in the title and then fixed it, but corrections take forever to show. grrr... I growl a lot, don't I? I must be in Padfoot mode. You made it sound like you were surprised it was good...just kidding._

_Ptrst: I can't have Harry get really mad at him until later. I should probably write a prologue, huh? Oh, well, I'm so lazy. Humor, romance, drama? Whatever do you mean? And I have no clue as to what is with the marionette thing, here...it makes no sense. _

_Dedicated to: Monikka, Jennie, and Alex (last two from LMNS), because they are all very talented writers! And cause they're just fun to listen to..._

Mercy's eyes squinted in suspicion, then widened in her complete innocence. Tom scorned her for it, but decided that innocence was a tool he should take notice of...it could work very much in his favor..

"Hey, will you stop that?! Just let me tell the story!" Tom shouted as Ginny threw yet another Dark Object directly at his forehead with the intention of maiming and/or disfiguring him, although those mean almost the exact same thing.

"All right, what is it you'd like to tell me?" she asked him, caution in her voice. Innocent but intelligent. She should be a Ravenclaw...but the Sorting Hat never lied...or made a mistake...what could she have been hiding that made her the Slytherin she was?

"Can I trust you?" he pressed, his desire to confide feverish, a red gleam in his eyes, a maniacal undertone in his voice.

Mercy hesitated. Possibly she knew what lay ahead, possibly she knew her choices; become his confidante and set out on the path to eternal damnation, or turn him away and...allow herself to regret having never tried to heal his wounds. He knew what she wanted to do- heal him with her love. But not get hurt. Which, it seemed, was impossible- she would fail and she would be hurt more than she could possibly imagine.

"Yes," she said finally. "Yes, you can trust me."

He seized her shoulder hard and looked into her eyes. "Yes, Mercy, I have heard of the Chamber of Secrets," he whispered.

"And what exactly have you heard about the Chamber of Secrets, Tom?" she said quietly, a hint of panic in her voice.

A grin twisted his lips. "Everything," he said.

She was silent, and she did that silly think where she stared into his eyes, carefully.

Then she said, and her voice was a bit louder, and she sounded scared, "What are you going to do to everyone, Tom?"

He let go of her, and the moment passed away. "You said you'd keep my secrets, Mercy," he said calmly.

She froze.

"You said you would."

"I know." It came out a harsh whisper.

"If you don't keep them, then what's about to happen to all the mudbloods in the school will happen to you."

He looked away and put her face in her hands. He didn't know what she was doing; probably just sighing- and then he saw her shoulders shaking.

"Mercy?!"

She looked up; tears were sliding down her face, pale, shimmery wonders made of moonlight and pure sorrow, the sorrow of an innocent soul.

Ah, yes. That was Mercy.

"Let's go to the Astronomy Tower," he suggested, and helped her up.

"Riddle! You're such a bastard!" Ginny shrieked.

"No kidding, Ginny," Harry said with a laugh.

"Ginevra, if I had a sickle for every time you interrupted me to state the obvious, I'd be a rich man," Tom sighed, caressing his forehead as though she was giving him a headache.

"Then stop talking about her like that!" she yelled. "If you loved her so damn much, why would you use her? Is it just because you don't know how to love?"

Tom turned to look at her slowly, a very ugly look on his face. "I suggest you watch your mouth." He said menacingly.

"Did I hit a sore spot with you, Tommy?" she asked.

"I could get you worse-"

"Leave Ginny alone!" Ron roared, pulling Ginny away from him. Draco rolled his eyes.

Riddle glared at her. He looked really tired.

"What's the matter with you?" Harry asked curiously.

"I sometimes wish I had never told her," he said quietly. "It's not really fair for her to have been sucked into my world like that. She was like a bird with her wings broken- she never stood a chance."

"What are you talking about, Riddle?" Draco asked, interested. Tom looked troubled- shamed by his past deeds.

Hermione pulled Harry's face down to her mouth and whispered into his ear, "He may have done a lot of terrible things, but he was still just a boy. Our age, he's our age. He had a conscience at this point, driven out of his head by ambition and some sort of insanity."

"Insani-?"

"He's criminally insane. But he regrets things- part of him is still Tom Riddle."

Harry knew it. Part of him was still Tom Riddle. If you rearrange Tom Marvolo Riddle you get "I am Lord Voldemort"....and if you rearrange the letters of I Am Lord Voldemort, you get...

...a hurt child.

"I think Mercy must've known it," continued Hermione. "And Ginny, too."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you about the Astronomy Tower," Tom said loudly.

"Oh, sure," Draco said eagerly. "Is this when you slept with her?"

"You have one sick little mind, Malfoy," said Ron, looking at him strangely.

"Just because you can't appreciate good sex doesn't mean I can't," snapped Draco.

"Okay," Hermione interjected, "Do you think he could finish? Because this is just too weird."

Draco and Ron nodded, then cast eachother reproachful glances.

Tom sat on the edge of the Astronomy Tower, enjoying the chill down his spine. He knew that at any moment he could fall to his death, and that's what he loved about it; every time he left, he knew he had cheated Lady Death's cold embrace yet again. He was invincible. Immortal.

That Tower and he were old friends, and had been ever since his third year, when he'd led Penny Hutchinson up there and slept with her, for the first time. It was the perfect place for anything he could have ever wanted to do, like a loyal friend it never told anyone his secrets, and helped him carry out his plans. But he didn't just go there with girls. More often than not, he went there alone. To think, and to whisper to the wind, and have it whip away the sound of his voice, never to be heard again.

But he had never done this before- he had never brought up a girl in this manner, and then just sat there, as though she weren't there. He usually met the girl in the hallway, snogged, her, and sat, "I have a better idea," and then carried her up to the Tower for approximately forty-five minutes, and sometimes more.

Mercy sat beside him. He could sense that she was afraid. She knew of the danger, and yet she sat anyway. To be beside him? He was her master now, in a sense; she was keeping his secrets as though a house elf.

He caught her looking at him more than once. Did she want him to touch her, kiss her, say something? Was that what she wanted? The possibility intrigued him.

He looked up at the moon, the cold moon, and whispered, "Oh, gods, help me, I don't know what to do."

She heard a sound and turned towards him. "Did you sat something, Tom?"

She was saying his name. And yet she wasn't. He no longer wanted to go by that, not anymore...Robby didn't call him that, he knew...Robby called him by his true name, would it be safe for her to call him the same?

He sighed and got off, and went to sit down on the glacial stone. She sat beside him, shivering. "What's wrong?" she asked, when he looked up at her.

He didn't reply. There were no lights on in the school, only the moon, and a cloud was passing over her pale silvery face, shrouding her in a gauzy veil, concealing her from his and Mercy's eyes.

"Tom?" she repeated.

"You look cold," he said to her, a bit ineptly- he wasn't used to this sort of approach. Usually it was, hey, I know what will warm us up, why don't you let me take off that bulky blouse of your and I'll show you.

"A little," she admitted. He reached over and pulled her close to him- heard her gasp, sucking in air- and felt her relax against him a little, although not completely. He didn't know when she'd ever relax completely.

So he held her, listening to her heartbeat, her breath flutter on his neck, and waited for her to break away and say something to him. Which didn't take very long.

"Tom," she said quietly, "why do you hate muggles? You're father is a muggle, isn't he?"

_eep, I really like this chapter. I had so much fun writing it, it was well planned out, in my opinion, and that which is carefully calculated is, in my eyes, more enjoyable than a bunch of thoughts thrown on a page at random, just impulsively writing a story based on an outline. I should be writing more of this story, not more of BTT. Oops, sorry, BTT fans, but that story is very messed up._


	6. Dear Diary: September 19

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter was not mine last chapter, and he's not mine this chapter...trust me, when he is, I'll let you know. I'm running out of clever disclaimer ideas!_

_Thanks to:_

_Monikka: heeheehee...I guess you're getting bored/annoyed with me, eh? First this is about an annoying character, then you get really mad at my dragon&kitty story...sorry! Well, after I read your review I decided you had a really good point- for a Slytherin, Mercy has no backbone! So, here it is!_

_ leafs-gurl999:I'm glad you love it! I love it too! It's my favorite story, and i love Mercy and i love poor Tom!_

19 September

dear diary:

I'm going to go to sleep now...gods know I need and deserve it. This morning, I woke up and went into the common room to read. I always wake up early, and I'm never the only one up. I usually come out at the same time Tom Riddle does. I stayed out, waiting for him to come down, but didn't. Everyone else got up, eventually, and by twelve thirty, Tom was the only person in the entire house who hadn't come down. What was I supposed to do? I went up to the boy's dormitories and, since I know which bed is his from the last time I went up to see him sleeping, I could find it.

I was going to wake him up, but he looked so innocent. I had to watch it. I remember watching him sleep like that, like a child, and I sat down beside him on the bed. I felt this sort of burning feeling, this twisted sort of feeling. I wanted that!

Envy, that's it. I was jealous of him. Of how he could just lie there like that, sleeping, and not have his sleep haunted. It's not fair. It's not fair at all.

But then I felt terrible for having ever been so jealous. He just doesn't seem innocent, I guess, so when he was asleep, it just caught me off guard.

Soon, his perfect, handsome face was clouded, his features screwed up in a frown. He murmured something, I remember—I couldn't quite make it out. But then, later, he cried out, "Have mercy!" and I was so scared for him, I thought of maybe even singing. How embarrassing. Singing. But I just touched his face- and I touched his mouth.

How could I? How did I dare? I don't know what came over me, but I did, and he woke up, gasping, like he had been drowning.

We talked a little bit, and he said he hadn't been dreaming. He must have forgotten. Well, I'm not pushing it. I never do, after all, the silence can teach you many things.

Later that day, towards the evening, he walked over to the gaggle of girls that were beside me. Of course, he's Tom Riddle, who's completely ruled by his wanker, and therefore he started flirting with the girls that were there. It made me fairly angry, but I've always been able to keep my cool. I had to step forward, however, when it seemed that I was the only girl who caught on to his ruse. Honestly, are Slytherins the only ones with brains?

When he asked what we were doing, I told that ridiculous fourth year Hufflepuff, Latrice Corning, to tell him that we were looking for the giant squid. Naturally he fell for it. I walked up to him and he almost kissed me, but I threw him into the lake. I felt so tainted after touching him—he certainly didn't seem so innocent then—but I felt much better when I saw how he looked when he came out of the lake...oh, he was positively livid! And a bit startled and, poor thing, dismayed. I laughed at him, along with the others. I know he never thought me capable of it. Laughter. Or sadism. Well, surprise, surprise, Tom Riddle.

I lectured him a bit, and I had a lot of fun, disgracing him, teasing him, et cetera. And last, and this surprised me quite a bit, I said, "But if you still want that kiss, Tom, I'd be happy to oblige now."

And I wasn't sure if I was going to kiss him! But gods, oh sweet mother of Fenris, I leaned in and I kissed him, oh, I thought he'd recoil, and then I would laugh at him- I had it all planned out! He'd recoil, and I'd laugh at him and say, "Not so eager now, are you, Riddle?" and I knew he'd be furious. I also knew he'd try to get me back, but I wasn't afraid of his vengeance.

But as out lips were pressed together, it appeared to be that he was, as a matter of fact, still quite eager to kiss. And not just kiss. And I must be careful of that. I must not allow myself to fall prey to the desires of a madman.

Oh, he did not recoil. I curse myself now, I should have known better, should've known that he was very experienced in such matters, and knew what he was doing. He kissed me back, and I felt his tongue against my lips, and I knew that I had made a grave mistake in playing with his wanton wishes. I should not have tempted him. He would take me and then move on to the next girl. I was a fool.

I pulled back hurriedly, and I know he saw how afraid I was. How frightened, too frightened to linger on those scandalous lips of his. Then I realised what I had done to him—made him want another being. Then I smiled. It gave me reason to smile.

But I had been so afraid by that longing in his dark blue eyes, eyes that burn as though the very fires of hell were lit behind them.

And perhaps they are. Poor Tom. Perhaps they are.

I didn't stay around to find out.

Not long ago, actually, I went up into the boy's dorms to talk to him, apologise I guess, and he was fairly snappish, although I can't say that comes as any shock. When he sneezed, though, my heart sort of fell out from under me, that's such an innocent thing- I mean, what sort of Dark wizard sneezes? – I reached out to touch his face. He didn't like it. Okay, I reasoned, Dark wizard – to- be, then.

I told him I wanted to talk. He told me to sit on his bed, and then when I hesitated, he asked if I was afraid he'd rape me. I felt the words well up in my throat; _not rape, Tom, but be taken willingly...._I must retain my innocence. I must. I won't let you down, mother.

We did talk. And oh, he tested me, plenty times, and he almost had me a while, but I am not a fool. Mother knew better than to raise a fool.

Then he asked me to stay there with him, all night. I refused, and got up to leave, and I told him to get some other girl- after all, it isn't fair that he should pick me. Why me? Of all the girls in our house, in our school- and he let it slip: he had wanted me at the lake. Not any other girl. Not just any girl. But me.

I fled. Can you blame me?

I told Helen a bit, but she's not that sympathetic. She doesn't understand why I fled. Ah, Helen, if you only knew, if only you had heard my mother's dying words. Of course, they weren't really. But my mother is dead. To a point.

I remember her dying words so well..

"_Will you miss me? Tell me, Sigyn, will you?"_

"_I- I don't know mother."_

_Her face fell, but she looked strangely contented. "Then you will not be like me. You must never be like me. Do you swear it?"_

"_I swear it, mother."_

"_Good." She leaned back. "Perhaps the gods will show your soul more mercy than they ever showed me."_

It wasn't fair of her to name me Sigyn. Sigyn Pandora Vice. Not fair at all. That is why I changed my name. After all, Pandora brought shame and sorrow to the world through her curiosity and Sigyn...suffered because of the sins of her consort.

Like my fool mother.

And I will not be like you, mother. I will never be like you.


End file.
